


The Rogue

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Draco Malfoy, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Dark, Dubious Consent, M/M, Vampire Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2019-03-26 07:30:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Potter isn't Potter anymore.





	The Rogue

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted October 10, 2015](http://dracogotgame.livejournal.com/101486.html)

Draco had to take a couple of deep, fortifying breaths before he actually went down the dark alley. It was irksome and he firmly reminded himself that he was a grown man— an Auror, at that— and far too old to be scared of the dark. Or spooky, narrow alleys with nowhere to run. Or who was most likely waiting for him down this road.  
  
That last thought made him growl and square his shoulders.  
  
He had never been afraid of Potter, and he sure as hell wasn’t starting now.  
  
The niggling voice in his head helpfully reminded him that Potter wasn’t Potter anymore and Draco brushed it away. He didn’t need the distraction.  
  
“You’re late.”  
  
Draco whipped around as Potter stepped out of the shadows. His green eyes glittered in the dark light and the silk scarf around his neck contrasted sharply with his newfound pallor. Draco exhaled shakily and fixed him with a glare.  
  
“I hate it when you sneak up on me like that,” he growled.   
  
Potter shrugged indolently and approached him. He moved slowly— almost lazily— and Draco wasn’t fooled one bit. Potter had always been a quick, sneaky bastard. Even before...  
  
...before he became this _._  
  
“So is the DMLE still trying to hunt me down?” Potter questioned, lazily trailing a finger down Draco’s arm. “Or is it just you?”  
  
Draco sneered and shoved his hand off. “I’m only here because I owed you a life-debt once,” he informed Potter, for what must be the hundredth time. “Potter, you need to get out of here. You know what they do to rogue vampires. If you had any sense of self preservation at all...”  
  
“If I did, you’d probably be dead,” Potter cut in. His smile was razor sharp, his eyes were jade. He looked so cold, so...other. In that moment, Draco just knew. This wasn’t Potter. Everything that boy had ever been was lost...lost to this cold, menacing, alluring creature.  A sense of despair welled up inside him and he didn’t know why. All he knew was suddenly it was all too much. Watching Potter like this, watching Potter  _be_  this, was more than he could stand.  
  
“This is the last time,” he said firmly. “I’m not seeing you again, Potter. They’re coming for you tomorrow, midnight at your old hideout in Hogsmeade. Do us both a favour and get out of town.”  
  
He turned to walk away. To his credit, he was only slightly surprised when Potter shifted and materialised right in front of him.   
  
“You think you can just walk away from me?” Potter hissed.  
  
Draco had about a second to process what was happening. Then a steel grip wrapped around his arm and he was shoved back against a wall. Potter pinned him almost effortlessly, one hand coming up to hold his head in place. His eyes flashed and he bared his teeth, displaying his deadly fangs. Draco swallowed around the lump of fear— and dare he admit it, anticipation— in his throat.  
  
“You’re not leaving me, Malfoy,” Potter hissed in his ear. “Not now. Not when you’re all I have  _left.”_  
  
The kiss was brutal. Potter’s fingers dug into his jaw and he savaged his mouth, breaking away the next second and descending on his throat. Draco emitted an embarrassing whimper as those fangs grazed the delicate skin.  
  
“No,” he half moaned, half whispered, trying to shove Potter off him. “Not...not again. Not again, Potter.”  
  
But Potter wasn’t biting this time. He contented himself with left a trail of searing, open mouthed kisses in his wake, licking and nipping at Draco’s pale skin with fervour. When Draco’s knees were straining from the weight of holding him up, Potter withdrew. His lips stretched in a bloodless grin that made sent shivers down Draco’s spine. Potter turned him around. He didn’t protest and he told himself it was fear that kept him rooted.   
  
Draco braced his hands against the wall as Potter practically ripped his trousers off. His teeth grazed Draco’s ear and his fingers— swift and slick and so, so cold— traced his entrance with old familiarity.  
  
“Mine,” Potter whispered as he breached him.  
  
Draco moaned and threw his head back.  
  
Later, he would be furious with himself, later he would pace and snarl and rage about that moment— that instinct that compelled him to offer himself up to Potter without question. But right now, right here in this moment, it didn’t matter that Potter was slowly conditioning him to need this, to need him. Right now, Draco  _needed._  And that was all.  
  
It was hard and fast and dirty. Draco’s breath came in short, sharp gasps and his fingers dug into the wall. Potter’s breath against his neck was a feral thing. His thrusts stuttered slightly and he bent his head. Razor sharp fangs pierced Draco’s throat, the pain blending with the rush in a heady, intoxicating mix.   
  
Potter seemed encouraged by his response. He drew back and adopted a brutal, punishing pace. Draco’s breathing quickened and his nails dug into the wall for purchase until he couldn’t hold out any longer. His hips stuttered and jerked and he painted the wall with Potter’s cock inside him and fangs still lodged in his throat. Draco’s eyes closed and he sagged against the wall, dizzy from the rush of his orgasm and the blood loss.   
  
Potter pulled away a moment later. Draco hissed in discomfort as he withdrew his fangs and lapped at the small wound. When he turned around, Potter just smirked and wiped a stray drop of blood with his thumb. If Draco could have summoned up the strength to hex him, he would have.  
  
“I’ll be gone for a few days,” Potter told him. “Until things cool down at the DMLE. Keep them off my tail. Plant evidence, report a false sighting, you know how it’s done.”  
  
Draco did. He’d done it before, after all. Countless times. And as Potter stared at him, with hard, emerald eyes and that cold humourless smirk, it made him want to scream in frustration.  
  
“Last time,” he whispered, even if he knew it wasn’t true.  
  
“Hardly,” Potter smirked. “There’s a reason you put yourself through this, Malfoy.”  
  
Draco’s answering sneer was weak and resigned. “And what might that be?”  
  
Potter’s eyes glinted with victory. For a moment, Draco could almost pretend he saw life in them. Then Potter smiled again and his fangs gleamed in the dim light.  
  
“Because I’m all  _you_  have left.”  
  
And with that, the bastard was gone.   
  
Draco raked a shaky hand through his hair and made his way back to the world of the living.   
  
Later that week, the DMLE received an anonymous tip about a vampire sighting south of Hogsmeade. The lead went cold. The DMLE was forced to admit that the rogue vampire was still at large and the public descended into panicked hysterics. The Prophet had a field day— demanding answers, action, anything to stop the menace.  
  
Auror Malfoy declined to comment.


End file.
